Breathe
by x-backtoblack-x
Summary: It's a year to the day that Beth stepped in front of that train in Huxley Station and Alison finally feels ready to accept she's gone and confront her feelings.


Take a deep breath in.

Hold it.

Hold it.

Hold it.

Hold it.

Hold it.

Hold it.

Hold it.

Now breathe out slowly.

Alison had always hated yoga, though her preferred alternative of washing down a Xanax with a glass of sharp white wine wasn't an option right now. She wanted to be clear headed for this. She needed to be clear headed for this. So instead she heeded probably the only good advice Sarah had ever given her, and she took a deep breath.

Then another.

Then another.

She just kept breathing. She kept breathing because right now it was the only thing she was sure she could do. She kept breathing, in and out, in and out, until she could feel the strength return to her legs and the tears that had been pooling in the corners of her eyes recede.

This was ridiculous; she'd not even stepped out of the car yet.

"Pull yourself together Alison," she demanded giving herself a stern look in the rear-view mirror, her tone not unlike the one she took when disciplining her children.

She pried one of her shaky hands off the steering wheel and unbuckled her belt. It was now or never. She opened the car door and sat for another second before forcing herself to step out. Her legs didn't cave in – that was a good sign at least. The gravel around the crematorium crunched beneath her low heels, and when she shut the car door behind her the slam echoed out into the empty space around her, slicing through the winter breeze that nipped at her exposed cheeks.

She looked at the pristine white building, sticking out like a sore thumb surrounded either side by greenery. It was a nice looking place though, she had to admit. Beth would probably have liked it, prominent but not flashy, and with plenty of free space around it where she could have run.

Not that it'd been Beth that chose it of course.

Even with possibly hundreds of sisters in the world it had still been Felix that had finally taken the task of finding somewhere to put Beth's remains. He claimed it was because he started to feel guilty doing what he does with the ashes of a dead cop sitting on his counter watching him.

Alison knew better though.

She knew Felix of all people saw through her façade. Saw that she was mourning. Saw that she needed somewhere that wasn't a messy warehouse apartment to do her mourning.

He'd invited her to come with him when he took her here. She'd considered it but it was too soon. It had been too soon to see everything that had once been Elizabeth Childs now compressed into something so small, so… impersonal. The woman that had taught her to shoot, the woman that had opened her eyes to so many things was now just dust in the bottom of an urn.

It had taken her months to finally come to terms with the idea of Beth being gone.

Endless days of scrolling to her name in the clone-phone and hovering over the dial button. Countless nights of lying awake imagining Donnie's snores to be the sound of an oncoming train and wondering what must have gone through her mind in those final moments.

It had taken her even longer to get over her anger.

A simple text would have been something at least. There'd have been some finality to it. Some closure. She would have at least known. She may even have got to know _why_. Instead Sarah had trudged unceremoniously into her life while she cut oranges for her kids soccer team, bringing the bad news with her and waving it around like a bad smell in that little hut.

She was finally ready though, and there was no time better than a year to the day that it had happened.

It was kind of poetic really, she thought as she finally took the first step away from the side of her car. She walked slowly, more deliberately than usual. She thought three times about turning back, each time she done the same thing.

Take a deep breath in.

Hold it.

Hold it.

Hold it.

Hold it.

Hold it.

Hold it.

Hold it.

Now breathe out slowly.

The building was almost empty at this hour of the morning and at this time of the year. Something she was thankful for, given the fact she wanted her space. She wanted to be alone. Still though, a polite smile and a curt nod at the receptionist was etiquette more than anything.

She clutched a sheet of paper tight in her hand as she walked down the long, cold corridor. Every now and then she glanced at it, reading and re-reading Felix's messy scrawl, making sure she didn't walk straight past the glass box embedded in the wall that held Beth's urn.

It still felt weird to think of Beth as needing an urn.

She checked the plaque under every glass case on the right hand side of the wall and eventually, there it was. The simple gold container sitting unaware of its guest, and beside it a picture of Beth – again chosen by Felix – of her after finishing a race. A rare genuine smile engulfed her face as she looked up into the camera while she caught her breath.

Take a deep breath in.

Hold it.

Hold it.

Hold it.

Hold it.

Hold it.

Hold it.

Hold it.

Now breathe out slowly.

Her hand slowly lifted out of reflex, her fingers extended. She wanted so desperately to reach through the glass and past the urn. To find Beth, standing somewhere behind the wall, a small knotted smile on her face as she promised Alison she'd never leave her again.

Instead she traced the words on the plaque.

_Elizabeth Childs, March 13__th__ 1984 – November 23__rd__ 2012._

There it was. All anyone would ever know of Beth if they were to pass by this spot. It seemed ridiculous to Alison. They'd never know the detective, the runner, the gun enthusiast, the woman that loved crime shows and cheesy 80's pop. Most importantly they'd never know the woman Alison would have done just about anything for at the drop of a hat, if only she'd been given the chance.

She stood for another moment. She'd thought for months what to say and how to say it. She'd considered every possible sentence that could come out of her mouth, and what Beth would think if she heard her say them. None of it felt right though. It was either too casual or too angry. Too happy or too depressing.

Instead she allowed her stare to switch between the plaque and the picture, never once resting on the urn. Eventually though she relented. She looked at it for only a second and she knew. She knew exactly what she wanted to say.

"I'm sorry." Her hollow whisper was swallowed up by the long hall, though she knew Beth heard it. "I'm so, so sorry."

She could feel the tears against her frosty cheeks, their warmth cutting a path right down the side of her face she didn't bother to brush away.

Take a deep breath in.

Hold it.

Hold it.

Hold –

She couldn't hold it anymore. Instead she was hit by an avalanche of emotion and sobbed violently, the air releasing from her chest all at once as more choked sobs followed suit. Her knees almost buckled beneath her, and she found herself leaning against the wall beside Beth's glass case for support. Her heart felt like it was shattering. Her body felt like it was falling apart at the seams. Each piercing cry cut through her like a fiery blade. She tried twice to stop them, to reel in her emotions, and each time she found herself choking and gasping for air as her tears kept coming hot and fast.

"I'm so _fucking _sorry Beth," she managed, the cuss slipping from between her lips like a poison.

She'd never used the word before, yet now seemed apt. For some reason it felt like the only word in her extensive vocabulary that could even in the most abstract sense validate just how sorry she was. The only word that could even in the smallest of ways express her guilt.

"I should have been there," she continued, her voice shaky, hoarse and slow yet determine as ever as tears still streamed down her face and whimpers still escaped her each time she took a breath. "I should have been there for you like you were for me. I should have answered my phone more. I should have met with you more. I…"

She paused. She'd never said it out loud before. She'd thought it. She'd thought it for weeks before Beth had killed herself, and she'd thought it almost every moment since then. She'd never said it out loud though.

Then again, the dead don't share your secrets.

"I shouldn't have pushed you away when I realised I had feelings for you." There it was, out in the open.

Even though her lonely sobs continued, she found the silence to be crippling once she said it. Then again she wasn't sure what else she was expecting. For Beth to appear behind her, wrap her up in her arms and tell her she felt the same?

It was too late for that now. Too late for them.

Instead it was like one weight had been lifted and another one thrown down in its place. Would Beth still be here if she'd said it sooner? If she'd gone against everything her brain had told her and just admitted what she felt?

Maybe. Though then again maybe not.

That was the thing, she'd never know now because the urn and the picture in front of her was all that was left of Beth, and neither of them could talk.

She stood for another minute then. Her tears slowed and her broken sobs eased into unpleasant hiccups. She didn't know what else to say.

Maybe someday she'd come back and tell Beth about how she'd first realised it when she'd been teaching her how to shoot. Something about the detective's silent confidence and the way she just seemed to get her in a way that no one else ever had.

She was smart, but not in a show-off way like Cosima. She was funny, though not in a rude or sarcastic way that Alison often turned her nose up to. She was fierce too, something that Alison liked to think she too possessed.

They were so similar, and yet so different. They were two sides of the same coin, and Alison knew from the very first time they were alone together on the shooting range that it was nothing to do with biology or genetics.

Today was not the day to share that story though. Today just saying the words out loud was more than enough.

"I'm going to go now Beth," she whispered eventually, her tears all but gone. "Though don't worry, I promise I'll never leave you again. I promise I'll be back soon."

As she turned on her heel she swore to keep that promise. Once a week from now on she decided as she retraced her steps back down the corridor towards the reception. Maybe next time she'd even bring something to add to the little glass box in the wall she thought to herself as she gave another curt smile to the receptionist. A flower perhaps and she could replace in on her weekly visits, she considered as she made her way towards her car. Yes, a flower would be nice and in an elegant glass vase too, Beth would like that she nodded, opening her car door and sliding in.

Beth would have to like that, a voice in the back of her head reminded her, she's not here anymore to say otherwise.

Take a deep breath in.

Hold it.

Hold it.

Hold it.

Hold it.

Hold it.

Hold it.

Hold it.

Now breathe out slowly.


End file.
